Hi, yes, it’s Ewan aged 4½ here. I’m still not pushing the ½ bit even though it’s very important and is the difference between being a nursery goer or a mature big schoolboy. Just by me saying Ewan, here, aged 4½ it will grip you and take your attention and you will think, Hello, he is a very knowledgeable person because he doesn’t go to nursery. He goes to full blown school and will know a thing or two. And so be worth listening to.
One of the main subjects in my Blog Post this week is something Cousin George (aged only 3½ years old) touched upon in his Blog post last week. But that’s going to happen because me and Cousin George are cousins. That is why his name is Cousin George. It is not a marketing tactic; he really is my cousin.
What is more to the point, quite coincidentally I am his cousin too.
And if that was not enough to make you say “wow!” we are best mates too. Soul mates.
What I am trying to say is because we are together a lot there are going to be many things we do and want to Blog about that cross over.
One major thing is The Polar Express Experience.
I know George has been rabbiting on since mid-July that Christmas has come. A few ideas above his station there, I think. Wishful thinking, I do believe. But I can tell you now Christmas has been officially declared. How do I know because we’ve been on the Polar Express which means Christmas celebrations have begun.
To prove it when we came home after going on the Polar Express most houses on our street, except ours of course had all their Christmas Lights lit up on the outside.
They looked amazing, fantastic and superb.
But I have the usual issue with Dad. Ours is one of the few houses on our street that is not “Christmas Ready”. Why? Santa is bound to miss us out and think that we do not believe in Christmas.
I get this scare every year, and this is my 5th Christmas. I can never relax.
As I was saying before Dad’s lack of Christmas spirit interrupted, we joined the Polar Express last Friday which marked the opening of the Christmas season for us.
Do you like the Polar Express film? It was made with a Production Budget of $165 million and took $311.3 million at the Box Office. The fourth most successful Christmas themed film ever.
Me and Brother Rory like it but Cousin Freya and Cousin George are fanatical about it.
I knew from the film and book (the book was a book first and they made the film from it) that the Polar Express travelled all the way to the North Pole where Santa lives. But I did not know what a long way that was.
We went after school on Friday. Dad drove for hours and hours and hours. Talk about Driving Home for Christmas. I thought we are Driving Away From Home For Christmas. Probably a good thing as Dad has not decorated our house up. Saves a lot of embarrassment for me. I could not see how we could drive this far and be back home in time for Christmas.
It was almost as far as when we go on Summer holiday and we are away a week for that.
And just like our Summer holiday we ended up at a Premiere Inn hotel. I did not remember that bit in the film. I do think with a production budget of $165 million they would have used a more upmarket hotel. But you know my Dad, he’s meaner than Scrooge especially at Christmas. He won’t spend £1,000 if he can get away with 10p. That’s another stress I have about Christmas, especially when it comes to my presents.
But we met up with Uncle ColCol and Auntie NanNan at the hotel and Cousin Freya and Cousin George. That eased my concerns a little.
Although, me and Cousin George thought our Mum’s had finally lost the plot when they told us to put pyjamas on to go out in to catch the Polar Express.
Fortunately, Mamma had bought us all the same ones with the words “Is it too late to be good” in big letters on the front. To be honest I know Santa well. I’ve read so many books about him, seen so many films and met him many times. I know it’s never too late to be good. He don’t let you down.
That meant Instead of wearing a school uniform we all wore a “Polar Express” uniform.
Next thing we were back in the car to continue our journey. Boy it was a long, long way. We then had to secretly park the car at a service area. And go board a bus.
Grandad says you have to have all this secrecy, or everyone would be turning up on Santa’s doorstep asking favours and he’d never get any work done.
It was at the stage of catching the bus that me and George had the biggest doubt in our parent’s capability when we realised, we were headed for the “Wensleydale Railway”.
The Wensleydale Railway is a heritage railway in Wensleydale and Lower Swaledale in North Yorkshire, England. The line runs 22 miles between Northallerton West station, about a fifteen-minute walk from Northallerton station on the East Coast Main Line, and Redmire. Length: 35.41 km. Opened: 2000. Stations: 7. Originally line closure 1954
We thought they’d got it wrong. Wensleydale is Wallace & Gromit country. Wallace, like Auntie NanNan just loves that cheese. So, it must be “Wallace & Gromit’s Wensleydale Cheesey Express” we thought and here’s us turning up in “The Wrong Trousers”.
But surprisingly for schoolteachers they had got it right. So, we decided our Dads must have organised it, as we excitedly boarded the real live Polar Express.
Well, I was excited but Cousin George and Cousin Freya were even more excited. There were so many good and positive things about that train journey with Santa.
Firstly, I heard the bell clearly and loudly, in fact we all did. And you know what that means don’t you? You don’t. Quick get a copy of the book and read it or watch the film.
The bell is so important to the story we were even given a real magic bell of our own.
The other thing was there was Santa’s official scanner to see who’d been good or bad. Funny how all us children showed up GOOD and grownups, particularly our Mums BAD. But it only confirmed what we knew all along.
So, the Polar Express was obviously the real one because it was such a long way away. Santa was on it, And more proof was, just guess what time we finally got back to the hotel to sleep? 12 o’clock midnight!
That proves it was the real Polar Express. And of course, the magic bell we were all given.
I have only once in my life of 4½ years been awake at 12 o’clock midnight and that was to wind my parents up and just to see what it was like. I’ve tried to stay awake many times but without success. It is not easy to do.
Next day we did Christmassy stuff in York and Sunday, Christmassy stuff at Sherwood Pines.
My week has been a Christmas themed week this week. On Monday and Tuesday, I made a Christmas mask with Mamma. The mask was a Christmas Wolf mask.
No, he wasn’t a Big Bad Wolf or Santa wouldn’t come to him. This is the Big Good Wolf.
On Thursday Granny took us to her Church to show us the Christmas trees. There were millions of them, so many they called it a Christmas tree Festival.
There were so many different themes: Polar Express – Done that seen that got the bell, Leen Mills School – Yes, my school’s tree, been there.
Brother Rory was very excited.
The trouble with Brother Rory getting over excited about something is that it puts undue pressure on me to be excited. And I am a very reserved person.
The trouble with all these Christmas trees is it makes me feel sad because Dad has not put up our Christmas tree and Christmas will be gone, and we will have missed it and Santa will have missed us!
This Blog post is written Friday morning and at the moment Mum and Dad say we are planning our Christmas trip to Smythe Toy Superstore where we get to choose what we want Santa to bring. The problem is we have to be good or we definitely won’t get anything, but we do not know if we are going to get them anyway until we open our presents on Christmas morning.
That means I have to be good, (which for me is tough and hardwork) for 18 days and it may have been all for nothing anyway. It could be all be a waste of time being good.
Christmas is such a stressful time for me!
Well, I’d best close. I’m doing the Non-fiction Book of the Week on Monday. Guess what that is called “Christmas”.
Yes, surely it is starting to look a bit like Christmas.
Bye Bye, Ewan